Francis Opened the Closet

Okay... So this is my first post in my new blog. Not sure how to really go about it, not sure why I even made it in the first place. All I know is that I was a bit inspired by all the posts in theorg-y's collective blogging event, with the theme of Coming Out.

So there you go. Yes, I'm gay. And to start things off, here is my Coming Out story.

It all started when I was in Grade 4 at this Exclusive-for-boys school in Makati. I live in Muntinlupa, and classes start promptly at 7 AM, so there's around a 30-minute to 1-hour commute from my house to school. The bus service picks me up from my house at around 5 in the morning, to provide buffer for any unanticipated traffic. My busmates and I are usually the first ones in the Grade 4 Hallway.

That is... my busmates and I, plus this guy from Section 4. I'm from Section 3, and the first thing I usually do is to park my bag in front of our room, then play early morning games with my busmates. Alam naman natin lahat na kapag bata, may konting time lang na mahihiya ka pa pag may di kakilala, pero wala pang ilang pagkikita eh parang friends na kayo for a very long time.

And yes, the first thing I noticed about him was... he's very cute. Haha :D At age 10, I already knew that boys were suppposed to like girls, and vice versa. But I wasn't the least bit bothered by how attractive I find him. I wouldn't be able to really mouth it then, but the attraction is something so natural for me, something so instinctive, that without a conscious decision, I screwed all the what-were-supposed-to-be's, and said hello to increased heartbeats, stolen glances, slightly burning cheeks, and moments when I could brush my skin against his during play.

From then on, I looked forward to every morning. There was never any formal introduction, but I found out his name... Francis. Kiko for short. Haaaaangggkyuuuuut!!!! Hahahaha :D But then again, at that time, I already knew that making any advances would trigger the most hated word in the whole campus. So needless to say, I grew quite contented with my few moments with him, moments which, at that time, I wish could be lengthened to forever...

Fast Forward to First Year High School. I found myself rushing to the section boards hoping to see that Francis and I could finally be in the same class. I looked through sections 1 to 7, but I couldn't find him anywhere... My heart dropped. I felt like gravity suddenly grew stronger, and I was unable to keep up with its weight... I did not physically fall, but it sure felt like I did, because I swear I could've heard a strong, painful thud... A thud that reverberated across my whole body... Back then, there were no such things as cellphones, friendster, or facebook. I got resigned to the fact that I possibly won't be able to see him again...

Do I consider this my first heartbreak? Hmm... maybe? All I knew was that I quickly got over it. Damn, it was first year high school, and hormones were all a-raging. And I soon found out that MY hormones weren't alone in their rally for recognition...

It was at a symposium regarding abortion / unwanted pregnancies I think. It's only now that I realize that it might have been one of those foiled attempts at sex ed. During one of those gruesome slideshows of aborted fetuses (fetii??), I was feeling something else slide down the back of my pants...

We were sitting on the floor, indian style, in straight rows facing the screen. It was in that setting that I felt my classmate behind me sliding his hand down my back... At first I was shocked! I swatted his hand and placed my water jug (ugh!) behind me to kinda prevent him from doing it again. And I say "kinda" cause I know it's gonna be one of those pakipot attempts to say "Stop It! But I actually wouldn't mind..." Hahaha :D And lo and behold, he did it again. This time, though I was trying to swat his hands again, he began to swat my hands in return, seemingly saying "Sandali, pinapahirapan mo ko!"

After a while, I felt him stop. I breathed in relief, because we might already be seen by some people, but my relief came to a halt when I felt his hands trying to go "somewhere" else... I felt his hands slide down my side, up my right, folded thigh, and finally, he slowly took hold of my crotch, the hardness of which confirmed that I'm actually liking the whole touching-in-public thing... Surprisingly after, he stood up, sat in front of me, took my hand, and placed it on his crotch as well. Many people were able to see this, and they were laughing and pointing at us. But no one took it seriously. I retracted my hand, and after people's attention drifted back to the monotonous discussion on Sex Ed, I slyly whispered in my aggressive classmate's ear... "Mamaya"

He was my first forage into the gay world. I finally told everyone that I had this crush on Francis previously (Kilala niyo ba siya? Ah oo siya yun... Ang cute cute niya diba?), and people just smiled knowingly. I started hanging out with the openly gay crowd, and guys either stayed away, or got a bit closer with certain things in mind... High School hormones are a phenomenon unto itself, and Francis played a huge part in awakening that part of me looked upon as taboo by society. So to Francis, Raging Hormones, and to Mr. Classmate - Thank You, not for the heatbreak, the pimples, or the sex, but for helping me come to terms with who I am.

Coming out of the closet is not just a simple open the door, come out, close the door, and bask in sunlight scenario. It's a violent shaking of the crippling walls, a pounding away at the hard shadows, and finally, a complete shattering of those binding doors, where outside we're welcomed with rainbows, regine velasquez songs, bouncing volleyballs... and judgemental stares, sharp, flying (s)words, and broken chains desperately trying to strangle closet-shattering freaks.